


Always The Quiet Ones

by fortythousandth



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime), Sailor Moon - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Gen, brief mention of bondage?, hints of Ami/several senshi, no established Ami relationship in this one though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 19:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1197210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortythousandth/pseuds/fortythousandth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ami's romance novel hobby takes a personal turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always The Quiet Ones

Everybody has something, that little hobby or activity, the escape that lets them take their mind off senshi business and relax for a fleeting moment in time.

The others have manga, or pop music, or cooking. Ami has her romance novels.

She KNOWS what people would say if they found out that the books Ami constantly totes around don't contain detailed analyses of the theory of relativity, or the complete unedited works of Shakespeare, or whatever it is that people assume smart people read for pleasure in their spare time.

Being a defender of humanity and the very essences of love and justice is a complicated, strenuous, time-consuming job. When one has devoted one’s very life to regularly staring evil itself in the eye, it’s not unreasonable to need some form of release, no matter how treacly or socially scorned said release might be.

Besides, Ami doesn't read just any run-of-the-mill romance novels; anything worthy of occupying Ami Mizuno’s intellect must be excellent. She refuses to waste her time with anything less than exemplars of the genre. The more purple the prose, the better. The more obscure the adjectives, all the better. And--not that Ami would ever admit it out loud, of course, but it’s true--there has to be the _payoff_. Yes, the not-so-secret core of any good romance novel, the passion, the melding of minds and bodies, the consummation of pages upon pages of tension: Ami can’t resist a romance scene.

As of late, she’s found nothing better than the works of Marina del Mar, a rising star in the genre.

Del Mar writes with the perfect blend of elegance and spice. Her characters are realistic enough to practically jump off the page, her plots twist and turn and explode into brilliantly unexpected (yet always satisfying) conclusions,

And so what if del Mar specializes in writing relationships between women? It’s not like Ami has ever had a problem with that sort of thing. All of her studies have convinced her that love, wherever it can be found, is a beautiful and natural thing that should be cherished, never scorned.

Not to mention: del Mar’s novels are teaching Ami a lot of things she’s never thought about. If she wanted to stretch, she could almost call it a borderline educational experience…

Okay, that’s going a bit far. But Ami _is_ learning a lot, and in many cases, she’s even beginning to prefer the specific type of cat-and-mouse chase featured in del Mar’s books, the dialogue, the repartee. The constant slight tinge of scandal hanging over it all only adds to the appeal.

And Ami, due to a few pulled strings here and there combined with her extensive knowledge of the industry, has been able to secure herself a place as one of del Mar’s early proofreaders.

It’s an honor, incredibly flattering, as well as incredibly beneficial. With her access to advance copies, Ami’s never without something to read. No, not just that--she’s never without expertly penned, intricately plotted, scorchingly sensual things to read.

Perhaps people don’t understand. But whenever Ami finds herself deep on a journey within the pages of her books, she finds that she simply just doesn’t care.

* * *

On a bright Wednesday afternoon, Ami is deeply, thoroughly engrossed in the pages of del Mar’s most recent offering, skimming over the words with bated breath as del Mar’s protagonist finally found herself alone with her gorgeous brooding love interest:  

_Hamako had spent weeks trying to resist, going through excuse after excuse to talk herself out of her feelings for Ryo. Hamako’s family would never accept someone like Ryo, would never understand Ryo’s occupation or appearance. Ryo herself seemed incorrigible, almost flighty, always followed by admirers; who knew if she’d ever be the type to settle down? Finally, and not least of all, Hamako just couldn’t be interested in Ryo. She couldn’t be interested in a woman._

_Never mind the way that Hamako had spent her youth carefully averting her eyes in the locker room; never mind the way that Hamako’s mind always drifted when alone at night to thoughts of various beautiful women--and only women--that she’d encountered during the day. Hamako just_ could not _fall for Ryo._

_Yet fallen she had, she realizes, as her heart clenches at the mere sight of the magnetic figure before her. Ryo blinks her sharp, dark blue eyes, and flicks her bangs back from her forehead. “Can I help you?” she asks, voice dull and disinterested._

_Hamako is nowhere near as innocent as she allows people to believe, and she gives her eyelashes a slight flutter. “Yes,” she breathes, voice low. “I was wondering if you’d be interested in helping me with this project. I’ve heard that you’re the only one in this office who is capable enough.”_

_Hamako sees it. She sees the flash in Ryo’s eyes, however how brief, and allows herself to hold her breath. Now that she’s asked, there’s no possible way that Ryo could say no…_

_“I can’t,” Ryo says curtly, backing away. “Get someone else to help you. Or do it yourself.”_

_And with that, she’s gone._

Ami barely holds back a gasp. How RUDE! How could Ryo do that?! Why couldn’t she see that she and Hamako were OBVIOUSLY destined to fall in love and be together? Why did she have to be so harsh to poor Hamako? Ami’s heart aches.

But before she can get back to the manuscript to learn how Hamako will deal with the situation, she’s quite handily interrupted.

A small four letter word like "sigh" cannot fully encompass, fully describe, the event that is Minako expressing her frustration. Minako does not merely sigh; Minako _sighs,_ sprawled on the table, face twisted into an obviously practiced expression of angst, expelling a massive breath that completely jolts Ami out of the story and makes Ami glad that Minako doesn't have any powers associated with the wind.

“I can’t BELIEVE this!” Minako exclaims. “You would really rather _study_ than discuss romance with the senshi of love and beauty?!”

“Yes, Minako-chan,” Ami says patiently for what seems like (and may actually be) the thousandth time. “We worked so hard to make those flashcards, and they have everything you need to do well on the exam… Usagi-chan, that goes for you too! I can see the manga under the table!”

Usagi instantly blushes and shoves the manga all the way under the table. “W-what manga?” she asks brightly, dripping with nervously feigned innocence, as Rei shakes her head and shoves a deck of homemade English flashcards across the table at both blondes.

Ami watches carefully for a few seconds, just long enough to be sure that Minako and Usagi have actually begun work, and then turns back to her own book. Or rather, her own “book.”

She allows herself a small smile as she gazes down at the pages she’s smuggled in what appears to just be an ordinary math textbook.

Minako and Usagi really shouldn’t try to pull the manga-in-book trick on an _expert._

* * *

Ami bites her lip, simultaneously engrossed, scandalized, and, yes, maybe just a little titillated by the latest chapter from del Mar. Allowing herself to drift off, Ami begins to lose herself in the story…

  _Hamako blinks up into Ryo’s piercing blue gaze, barely allowing herself to believe that the situation is real. “Ryo…” she whispers, reaching her hand up to brush a few strands of Ryo’s hair back from her forehead, half-wondering if she’s about to wake up from this glorious, beautiful dream._

_But Ryo shivers at the touch, gently grabbing Hamako’s wrist, brushing her lips against the back of her hand. “I...I can’t believe I ever thought I could let you go,” she whispers._

_Hamako can barely breathe, feeling almost a bit lightheaded. “The things you said--”_

_“I KNOW what I said!” Ryo cuts her off, eyes wide. “I know what I said. I was wrong, Hamako. I never meant to hurt you. I’m so sorry I tried to run…”_

_“But you’re here,” Hamako murmurs._

_“I am here,” Ryo says, staring deep into Hamako’s eyes. “And I’m never going anywhere.”_

_With that, Ryo tips her head down and meets Hamako’s lips with her own._

_Rationally, Hamako knows it’s just a kiss. Rationally, Hamako knows this, but as she wraps her arms around Ryo and pulls the other woman even closer, she can’t help but think that this feels like everything she’s ever wanted, everything she’s ever needed, everything that’s ever been true and meant for her over moments and years and several lifetimes._

_She tangles her hand in the soft hair at the back of Ryo’s neck, feeling the thrill run through her at the sharp gasp she elicits, and breaks away to trail her lips across Ryo’s jawline, down to her neck, nipping at the soft skin._

_Ryo jerks and lets out a soft groan, head tipping back against the wall. A sharp pang shoots through Hamako at just how willing Ryo is to let her take control, and Hamako presses her body fully against the taller woman. She subtly grinds her hips upward as she whispers in Ryo’s ear, “I need you…”_

_Ryo nods, fighting for words. “Hamako,” she manages, “please, I--”_

Out of nowhere, a pair of strong arms enclose around Ami’s waist as a chin simultaneously nestles in the crook of her neck.

Ami squeaks and flips the papers over, double-checking, and relieved to find, that there’s no incriminating text on the back pages.

“Sorry, Ami-chan!” Makoto chirps. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I was just wondering what you were reading?”

“A book,” Ami says hastily. “It’s a...a book.” Normally, she loves that Mako’s the cuddliest person she’s ever met--probably the cuddliest person in the entire solar system--but Ami, at the moment, isn’t particularly in the mood to be _cuddled_. She squirms in Mako’s arms and gives a small inelegant cough.

Makoto, to her credit, either does not notice or simply does not acknowledge the weirdness. “Well yeah, it’s a book! What’s it about? Can I see?”

Mako reaches across Ami for the book. In doing so, she leans over Ami, inadvertently pushing her chest into Ami’s arm. Her ample chest. Her rather spectacular, heaving chest, outlined perfectly in a fuzzy green sweater that leaves no inch to the imagination, that--

With a sudden hot flush, Ami wrestles control back over her mind. Where did that come from? And about Mako?!

Enough, she decides, is enough for now.

“E-excuse me, Mako-chan!” With that, Ami wiggles away and makes a beeline for the bathroom. (She makes sure to take the book with her.)

Makoto, utterly befuddled, gazes after her. “Did I say something wrong?” she wonders.

* * *

"Hamako," _Ryo moans, biting her lip and casting a desperate, fiery gaze across the room._

_Leaning on the doorframe, Hamako takes a moment to savor the sight of the nude body of her lover spread before her._

_Ryo, already irresistibly attractive, is stunning like this. All smooth golden skin and lean muscle and chiseled features and flashing white teeth, Ryo was practically born to be admired._

_This, of course, is something that Ryo knows a bit too well._

_Allowing her gaze to settle on the gleam of the handcuffs binding Ryo to the bedpost, Hamako finally lets a small smirk play across her lips. Oh yes, she'd certainly be putting Ryo in her proper place tonight…_

Distantly, Ami senses a presence in the room. She tears herself away from the manuscript to promptly lock eyes with an intense amethyst stare.

"Rei!" Feeling at LEAST as scrutinized as del Mar's love interest Ryo, Ami's cheeks all but light on fire. "I-is something wrong?" she says, her voice strained.

Rei blinks at her, still as piercing as ever. “Didn’t you hear Usagi-chan? The pizza is ready. You need to come eat.” Then Rei’s eyes drop down to the papers in Ami’s hand. “What is that? That’s not schoolwork, is it?”

Ami’s eyes go wide, and she gropes for an excuse. “No, but it’s, ah, it’s an...independent project I’ve been working on...it’s very...technical…”

‘Technical’ is certainly one way to describe this, a small internal voice in Ami’s head muses wildly.

Rei blinks at her, and Ami can feel herself almost starting to sweat. Sometimes having a psychic friend is a true pain. But Rei relents, running a hand through her hair. “All right,” she says uncertainly. “Make sure you get something to eat before the pizza gets too cold.”

When Rei leaves, Ami lets out a long pent-up sigh of relief. Then, double-checking the door, she turns back to the manuscript.

Ryo really DOES have it coming.

* * *

Story finished, Ami holds the most recent del Mar book in her lap, worrying the edge of the pages with her thumb as she continues her critique. “And the part with the love interest, Ryo, in the--er--the handcuffs?”

“Which?”

“I believe it was the third time, with the…”

“The scarf? Yes, carry on.”

“The scene was brilliantly written overall, but it seems to me rather anatomically improbable for the human body to stay in that position for that long.”

“Oh? Are you _sure?”_

Ami blanches a bit, reconsiders. “Well...I suppose it could be done with enough determination. The human body is an incredible machine.”

“It is. And you are a future doctor, after all.”

“Please understand,” Ami goes on, “the writing is exquisite, as usual. I just wonder...has your publisher ever mentioned anything about your protagonists’ love interests? They all seem to fall under a rather specific archetype.”

“You are a connoisseur of the genre. As you know, star-crossed love, especially the type that involves softening the cool demeanor of an enigmatic rebel, happens to be a very popular romance trope.”

“Yes, well,” Ami says, perhaps a bit dryly, “they’re also always blonde. And boyish. With a far greater rate of motorcycle ownership than you would expect to find in a normal population sample.”

Michiru Kaioh--pen name Marina del Mar--smiles mysteriously and takes a sip of her drink. “I do have a type, Ami-chan, and I find that including high dosages of author appeal greatly speeds up and improves my writing process.”

Ami ponders this.

Ami ponders this more than she had ever particularly needed to ponder this.

Ami pales.

Before Ami can get too lost in her mind, Michiru rises and plucks the manuscript from Ami’s hands. “You mentioned that you have a meeting to attend soon, didn’t you? Are there any more critiques you’d like to pass along before you leave?”

Ami swallows hard, pulling herself together. She asks a question that had honestly never occurred to her before: “Michiru-san...does Haruka-san know that you write?”

But Michiru’s back is already turned as she begins to flip through the manuscript. “Your notes are in the margins as usual? Arigato, Ami-chan; I can tell this was an intensive edit for you. We simply must go to dinner when our schedules allow...you’ll let me know, of course, won’t you?”

* * *

A few days later, Ami struggles to recap the situation. They are all...were all...in battle. Sailor Moon has just vanquished the enemy. Right before, though, there had been an explosion, bringing her to where she is now--on the ground, flat on her back, tangled up in someone’s arms, having been shielded from the blast. Ami doesn’t think she’s wounded, but she’d hit the ground hard, and she’s a bit fuzzy.

“Mercury? Oi, Mercury! Are you awake?”

Someone grabs her shoulders, shakes her. As the world slowly comes back into focus, Ami blinks up into deep teal eyes, realizing that she’s effectively being straddled by Sailor Uranus.

Memories of manuscripts slam into Ami's mind and she shoots upright, sputtering, her face warming to a bright beet red. “I…!” is all she can manage.

Uranus jerks back in surprise, giving her a very strange look indeed. “Mercury?”

“Perhaps you should move off her, let the girl breathe,” comes an elegant lilt, and then Sailor Neptune’s there, eyebrows raised at the situation.

“Oh. Sorry,” Uranus says gruffly, and climbs off, extending her hand. Still blushing, Ami accepts it, forcing down the weird jolt she feels in her stomach when she grabs the hand. Well, she thinks to herself, it’s not like everyone else hasn’t gone through a weird Haruka phase… Yes, a small contrarian internal voice whispers, but to be fair, not everyone else had all of the... _information_ that you have.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Uranus asks. “You keep...drifting off.”

“I’m sure she’s fine, Uranus,” Neptune says. “Perhaps just a bit shocked, no?” She sends Ami a sly half-smirk, and Ami bites her lip.

Then she remembers words are a necessary thing. “I’m fine,” she says. “Thank you for covering me.”

Uranus nods, gives her a brief smile, and turns her back to scan the former battleground. Once Uranus’ attention is elsewhere, Neptune leans in close and whispers, “When you get home, check your mail. There’ll be four new chapters waiting for you. I think you’ll enjoy reading it; _I_ certainly enjoyed it.”

With a wink, she loops her arm through Uranus’, and Ami watches the two Outer Senshi depart.

* * *

True to Michiru’s word, a manila envelope sits in Ami’s mailbox when she arrives home.

The writing is as skilled and searing as ever, except, Ami notes, the love interest this time around happens to own a helicopter.

Ami sighs to herself, decides that blushing doesn’t really mean anything if there’s nobody around to see, and grabs her trusty pencil, settling in to proofread.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired entirely by this (http://dumplingheadcanon.tumblr.com/post/6556754684)! I poked around the best I could to see if anyone else had ficced this already, but found nothing. If I missed something, I don't mean to step on any toes--but this idea just would. Not. Let. Go.


End file.
